Holy Night The Full story
by Absolut
Summary: Prequel to Holy Night. This one is for Morbid724. Hope this is answering your questions.
1. December 25th, 1990

**Holy Night - The Full story**  
By Absolut.  
  
Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. I'll turn them back when I've finished. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.  
  
Author' s note: This is a prequel to Holy Night, and mainly an answer to the very smart review by Morbid724, who asked very good questions. I wrote the previous version in two hours for a fic challenge, and did not have much time to enter in the details. So ... here is the whole story ... hope you enjoy it. R&R, please.  
  
PS: Time line is the one of the book. Eye color of Hannibal is the one of the movie.  
PPS to Morbid: THANKS a lot for having stimulated my diseased imagination.  
  
  
  
**Chapter one: December 25th, 1990.**  
  
" - Tell me, Clarice. Would you ever say to me: stop ... if you'd love me you'd stop.  
- Not in a thousand years.  
- Not in a thousand years ... That's my girl."  
  
Hannibal looked at her as if he wanted to print every detail of her face in his memory. He bent his head towards her and his lips brutally pressed hers. Clarice gritted her teeth to prevent him from entering and her eyes shot at him with anger. But he went on and soon his tongue forced its way inside her mouth. Clarice chilled. He tasted so good ... a mix of wine and fine tobacco ... Her temperature went up, but she did not want to surrender. She resisted as long as she could but when his hand started caressing her spine on her naked skin she felt as if her whole body was burning.  
  
He finally withdrew and she took a deep breath. Her hair was still trapped in the fridge and she could not go away. He smiled at her. There was something savage in this smile and in the way he looked at her. He bent his face down on her shoulder and started smelling her, licking her skin up her neck and then behind her ears. His hands had not stopped making their way down her back and were now softly stroking her buttocks under her dress.  
  
She couldn't help moaning when he bite her earlobe. Her body arched and she planted her nails in his back. His hands left her back and came to her belly. Even through the delicate fabric of the dress she could feel the heat of the contact. His lips came back to hers and brushed them gently. It was a real torture.  
  
Clarice put her hands on his chest and started unbuttoning his shirt. She had to touch him. She had to feel his bare flesh against her. She needed it. She needed it badly. As she was almost there, she felt him withdraw a bit. "No" she whispered. And she grabbed his shirt to pull him closer. He smiled at her and put one hand on the small of her back. "We've got to do something for this hair, Clarice". His voice was hoarse and his eyes were shining as if he had fever.  
  
With his free hand, he reached to the handle of the door on the top of the fridge. She was caressing his chest now and it spoiled a bit his concentration. It took him a while to set back the handle but he finally made it and a second later she was free. But by that time, she did not want to be anywhere but where she was, against his strong body, overwhelmed by desire.  
  
He put his hands on her thighs and lifted her. She put her legs around his waist, grabbed his neck with her hands and kissed him. She felt him move. He delicately sat her on the kitchen table and, not breaking the kiss, threw away whatever was on the table with his arm. The uproar echoed into her head. He got rid of his shirt quickly and unbuttoned his pants. She reached in and slipped her hands under his boxing short on his firm buttock. God, he was gorgeous.  
  
When he bent over to undo her dress, she felt his arousal on her belly. He pushed her back and climbed on the table. She felt the weight of his naked body on hers. He started exploring her, with his hands, his mouth. Clarice felt as if a hundred fingers were running on her. Her heart was about to explode. "Now ..." she uttered. "Take me now ...". He pressed his mouth on hers. Clarice moaned. "Not yet, Clarice ...".  
  
Every inch of Clarice body was on fire. But Hannibal pushed it until he could not stand it anymore. He wanted to taste every part of her. But he felt he couldn't restrain for so long. He finally entered in her. She arched up against him and her body followed his rhythm, slowly at first, then harder and harder, until they both reached their climax in the same second.  
  
Hannibal rolled on his side. Clarice was breathless. She shivered when he put his hand on her breast and started caressing her nipples. She turned on her side and pressed her body against his, as tight as she could, as if she wanted to be part of him. He held her close and buried his face in her hair.  
  
This is how sleep took them.  
  


* * *

  
Hannibal woke up first. Even before he opened his eyes, the scent of Clarice still asleep in his arms reminded him of what had happened. He looked at her for a very long moment, keeping his breathing as slow as possible not to wake her up.  
  
He had a look at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was almost dawn. He delicately pushed Clarice' s still body aside. She mumbled something in her sleep but he could not get the words. "Sleep, my angel." he whispered.  
  
He stood up and gathered his clothes. The kitchen was a mess. He quickly dressed and went upstairs to Krendler' s bedroom. He picked up a clean blanket in the cupboard and went back to the kitchen.  
  
She looked so peaceful. He had a last look at her beautiful figures before he finally resigned himself to cover her. He kissed her hand softly.  
  
He had to go before she woke up. He only had a few hours left before Clarice would alert the FBI. He knew she would do it. Despite what had happened that night, he was certain she would not abandon her duties. She would always be the brave hunter he knew ... and he would always be the prey.  
  
This night would be all he'd ever get from her and would remain the most extraordinary night of his life. He had been waiting for it for more than seven years, but it was worth the wait. He loved her and he would never love any woman again. She loved him too, even if she did not know it. But they could never be together again. This night was both the beginning and the end.  
  
"Good bye, my love. May you find peace and happiness."  
  
And he was gone.  
  
  


* * *

_To be continued. Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome ..._  
_Absolut._  
  



	2. December 1991

****Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. I'll turn them back when I've finished. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.  
  
  
**Chapter two: December 1991.**  
  
Clarice dropped on the sofa and took a deep breath. The baby was finally sleeping ! At last ... Not that the little girl was a difficult child, but when she was hungry, nothing could stop her ! Just like her father ... Clarice sighed. She had desperately tried to forget who her daughter' s father was, but it had not worked. Each time she looked at the little face and saw the little blue piercing eyes, she could not prevent the image of Hannibal from coming back to the surface of her mind.  
  
Where was he now ? Sometimes at night, when everything was silent around, she felt again the passion overwhelming her body. She just had to close her eyes and she could feel his body rubbing on hers. She missed him. This was a strange feeling for Clarice. She had never missed anyone before ... except her father. Would her daughter miss her father too ?  
  
  
When she had felt the first nausea about two months after her last encounter with Dr. Hannibal Lecter, Clarice had panicked. The version of that night at Krendler' s lake house that she had served to the FBI was 'slightly' diverging from reality. But she had felt safe: Paul Krendler could not talk anymore and the only other witness was Lecter himself. He was not really likely to go and talk to the FBI.  
  
But her pregnancy was seriously endangering her credibility.  
  
Strangely enough, she never even thought of not having the baby. But the fragility of her current position in the FBI required she avoided any kind of suspicion. So she had started looking for a credible father for her baby. She had spent nights in disco until she finally found someone having reasonable common physical characteristics with Hannibal Lecter, and being an acceptable partner.  
  
She had made a few unsuccessful attempts before she had finally found the one. Ted was a forty years old architect, about six feet tall, with beautiful brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was respectable enough for her to present him to her friends and colleagues. He was just recovering from a difficult divorce and had no will to engage himself into a serious relationship with a woman. Which suited her perfectly. They had been together for a couple of months when she told him about the child. It was not much, but her belly had started to swell up and she knew she could not hide her situation much longer.  
  
She told him she had no intention to ask him anything and that he had no obligation towards the child. He did not seem willing to take any responsibility either, so it went smooth. They parted a few weeks later, without crisis. They still had dinner together from time to time. He had never demonstrated any desire to assume his role of father. And she was grateful for that.  
  
Her sentimental life had been non-existent since. But she didn't mind. In her search for a potential father she had had relationships with other men, but had never felt again the desire and passion she had experimented that night in Chesapeake.  
  
  
Her strategy had worked perfectly, though. Well ... almost. The only person she could not fool was Ardelia Mapp, her best - and only - friend. One evening, two or three weeks after Clarice had made public her pregnancy, Ardelia and she had dinner together in their favorite Chinese. At the end of the meal, Ardelia had pointed her black eyes on Clarice and simply asked: "Does he know ?".  
  
Clarice had pretended she didn't understand what her friend was talking about, but Ardelia was not stupid.  
  
" - Don't cheat on me, Clarice. Does Lecter know about the child ?" Clarice had taken her time to answer, but Ardelia had patience.  
" - No.  
- Are you gonna tell him ?  
- No."  
  
Ardelia took a sip of wine. She cleared her throat and finally asked the question that had been haunting her for days.   
  
" - Clarice, I promise I will never talk about it any more, but ... Did he rape you ?" Clarice stared at her friend, with an air of defiance.  
" - No." she said. "He did not force me. He made love to me.  
- Clarice ... I know this is none of my business and you know I was never fond of the man, but ... Don't you think he has the right to know ? After all, it's his child too ...  
- And what do you suggest, Ardelia ? That I run half the world to find him, arrest him, put him back to jail, and then announce him he's soon gonna be a father ?  
- Of course not. I was just ... Clarice, I want you to know that I'll be there. Whatever you need, you can count on me.  
- Thank you, Ardelia."  
  
Ardelia had kept her promise. She had never mentioned again the name of Hannibal Lecter. And she had been there for Clarice, and for her daughter.  
  
Clarice felt all the more guilty for having lied to her friend. She did not have to run half the world. She actually knew how to contact Hannibal.  
  
The first letter had arrived about three months after the Chesapeake night. She hadn't even tried to trace it or to have it searched for fingerprints. She knew it was useless. And its content was far too personal to show it to her FBI colleagues. She knew it by heart.  
  
" _Dear Clarice,  
  
I had sworn to myself I would never contact you again, but I failed to keep my promise. There are so many things I needed to tell you ...  
  
The night we spent together has been with me every minute since. Human beings are strange little animals, aren't they ? How can such a brief encounter mark a man in his heart and in his flesh for the rest of his life, that I will never understand. I miss you, Clarice. I never thought I could say such a thing to anybody, before I met you.  
  
You do not have to worry, Clarice. I know we cannot be together again. And I have no intention to call on you, or to embarrass you in any way.  
  
I wish you a wonderful life. I bless the man who one day will succeed where I have failed. The man who will make you realize how beautiful a person you are. If only you could love yourself as much as I love you, Clarice ...  
  
  
Though you may not be convinced of it right now, I know you are strong enough to build yourself the life you deserve. But should you ever need anything - anything, Clarice - I will always be there for you. If you need me, any time, any place, just insert a message in the ad section of the Washington Post. From 'Lambs Keeper' to 'Land Runner'. I'll understand.  
  
  
Love,  
Hannibal. _"  
  
  
She had cried the first time she had read the letter. But these were not tears of sadness. The letter meant Hannibal had not abused her. He had been sincere with her. And that simple fact gave her the strength and the courage to go on. She would not reply to him. She would reconstruct her life. She knew she could make it.  
  
  
There had been other letters after. Three others. Very heart lighted. He was keeping her informed of how his life was going. He gave her descriptions of the places he was in. Never mentioning names of course, but he said he was in Africa. She would never know if it was true or not, but she did not care. He was still thinking of her, and that brought her warmth.  
  
But she never called the Washington Post. Her life was going fine. With its ups and downs of course, but all in one fine. And now that she had her little angel to protect, she had a goal. Obviously, there were periods more difficult than others. Now that Christmas was approaching, she often found herself slightly melancholic in the evening. But she would manage.  
  
She named her daughter Mischa, by Hannibal' s sister. Officially, she was Mikaella really. But she never called her otherwise than Mischa. Though he would never know it, she felt it was her own way to thank him for having revealed her.  
  
  
Clarice had a look at the clock. The baby would wake up in less than two hours now. She'd better go and have a rest.  
  
  


* * *

_To be continued. Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome ..._  
_Absolut._  
  



	3. December 24th, 1992

****Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. I'll turn them back when I've finished. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.  
  
Author' s note: OK. I admit this is a little out of topic. Kind of mini-fic inside the fic. But I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.  
  
  
**Chapter 3: December 24th, 1992.**  
  
Hannibal Lecter was standing by the window of his study. It was only 9:00 am but the sun was already hot. He felt a little bit of nostalgia for the white Christmas of his childhood back in Lithuania.  
  
But apart from the climate, Kenya had been a nice place to live so far. He had arrived there about a year before as Doctor Pier-Paolo Speranza, an eminent italian zoologist who had been appointed as director of the Kambuyu natural reserve. He had rapidly got accustomed to the local way of living and, though he did not mix up a lot with the other european citizens in the area, was now considered as a respectable figure in the local society.  
  
A knock on the door took him out of his reverie. "Come in". Catala entered the room. Hannibal always felt a little bit impressed when his secretary-chauffeur-body guard appeared like that. The black man was almost 6 ft 5 tall, and was built like a wrestler. He had hired Catala a few weeks after he had bought the house, and never regretted it since.   
  
But more than his physical appearance, what Hannibal appreciated the more in the young man was his discretion. Catala never spoke unless he was invited to, and he never asked anything about Hannibal' s past. He had accepted without a word the story Hannibal had told him and never failed obeying an order since. It was not in Lecter' s nature to trust other people, but Catala was to him the closest thing to a right-hand man.  
  
" - Chief Inspector Ramala has arrived, Dottore. He is waiting for you in the library.  
- Thank you, Catala.  
- Will you need me, Dottore.  
- No. I'll be fine. I want you to go to town instead. Here is a list of things I would like you to bring me back. And a letter ... same procedure as usual."  
  
Catala took the envelope and the sheet of paper. He read the list but did not ask any question. "This is for my Christmas dinner." Hannibal added. "Would you like to join me ?" The young man looked at him surprised.  
  
" - I don't know if it is suitable, Dottore.  
- Why not ? To tell you the truth, I feel a little bit sad to the idea of spending another Christmas night alone ... But of course, if you had other plans, I understand perfectly.  
- I don't have other plans, Dottore. If you would like my company, I will be happy to serve.  
- Then it's all settled. You'll be my guest. Go now. And tell inspector Ramala I will join him in a minute."  
  
Catala left silently and closed the door behind him. Hannibal sat in his armchair. Now he had to take care of Ramala.  
  
Edoardo Ramala was the head of the local police, which meant at maximum six people, and not particularly perspicacious. But Ramala was a little bit smarter than his men and had lately become a little bit too curious. Hannibal knew that some of his employees at the reserve had been questioned by the policeman. And he did not like it. He did not think Ramala had yet a clear idea of who he was, though. But he was certainly suspicious.  
  
Ramala had come to his house because some poachers had been seen on the reserve. He could have sent one of his men to Catala. Instead, he had come personally to see Dr. Speranza. That did not smell good.  
  
Hannibal stood up and headed to the library. He found Ramala apparently lost in the contemplation of the bookshelves. The policeman didn't hear him come in and was startled when Hannibal greeted him.  
  
" - Chief inspector, Ramala ! What gives me the pleasure ?  
- Doctor Speranza. It is always my pleasure to visit you. Though the circumstances this time are not really something to celebrate, I'm afraid. I have come to talk to you about the poachers who have been recently signaled on the reserve.  
- Please, take a seat."  
  
Ramala sat on the armchair Lecter had shown him. Hannibal remained standing, though, which made the inspector a little bit uncomfortable.  
  
" - Yes. I feel very concerned about these new gangs" Hannibal started again. "No animal loss has been reported yet, but one guard found three traps yesterday that could have been fatal to a lion. I have reinforced the patrols, but the territory of the reserve is far too vast to be fully covered.  
- Of course. Unfortunately, I do not have enough men to support your patrols, but we are currently investigating to try to identify these criminals. I wanted to assure you that I am taking the matter very seriously.  
- I thank you, inspector. How can I be of assistance ?  
- Well, we suspect they could have had some help from the inside to penetrate into the reserve.  
- An employee ?  
- Could be. Though we have no clear evidence yet, but that could be a lead.  
- Really, inspector, I'd be surprised. All people working here have been carefully chosen by my predecessor or myself, and I don't see who among them would be silly enough to risk their job to ...  
- I understand, Doctor, but it is however a possibility."  
  
Hannibal hated to be interrupted in the middle of a sentence. He was now standing behind Ramala' s armchair.  
  
" - I guess you know this matter better than me, inspector. Is there anything I can do to help you ?  
- In fact, yes. I would need your authorization to let my men interrogate the employees of the reserve. First as potential witnesses, of course.  
- I'll be most happy to oblige, inspector.  
- Thank you, Dr. Speranza. I was certain of your cooperation."  
  
Hannibal came back in front of Ramala.  
  
" - You are welcome. But you must take me for a very impolite host. I did not even offer you a drink. I'm awfully sorry, inspector, but I've been so preoccupied by the recent events ... Would you like some coffee or something ? Maybe a tea ?  
- A tea would be fine, thank you."  
  
Hannibal called for a maid and ordered tea for two.  
  
" - So," he said. "I have seen you were interested in my books when I entered.  
- Very much, doctor. In fact, I am very impressed by the richness of your library. I think some of these books are first editions, aren't they ?  
- That is right. I happen to possess a few pieces of which I am really proud. Do you read a lot ?  
- Not as much as I would like. My job is rather ... demanding, you know.  
- I'm sorry for you."  
  
The maid had returned with a tray. "Just leave it on the table, Mary." Hannibal said. "I will handle it." Mary complied and left the two men alone. Hannibal went to the table. He was turning his back to Ramala.  
  
" - How do you take your tea, inspector ?  
- Two spoons of sugar, no milk."  
  
Hannibal poured the hot beverage in two cups of the finest china. He added sugar for Ramala ... and a little supplement of his that the policeman had not requested. The sleeping powder was almost tasteless and the bitterness of the tea would make it impossible to detect anyway. He came back to Ramala and handed him his cup.  
  
" - Thank you, doctor." Hannibal nodded gracefully. The two men took a sip of tea in silence. Then Ramala went on: "Tell me, doctor, did you get used to your new life here in Kenya ?  
- Yes. Yours is a beautiful country. I must confess I sometimes suffer from the heat, but for the rest, I find myself very happy here.  
- Yes, I guess the weather is very different from Italy. Which part of Italy do you come from ?  
- Venezia ... Venice. Quite different indeed.  
- Venice ? I suppose the fauna there is rather poor. I mean, for a zoologist like you.  
- You are right. But I traveled a lot. Amazonia, China, New Zealand. And of course Africa.  
- And, did you have a specialty ?  
- The wildcats, mainly. I have always been fascinated by their instinct.  
- Yes, they are really interesting animals."  
  
Ramala yawned. He was starting feeling slightly dizzy.  
  
" - What about you, inspector, are you interested in animals ?  
- Well, as many african men, I ... " Ramala was suddenly feeling very weak. " I ... I'm sorry, doctor, I just ...  
- Are you all right, inspector ? You don't look so well.  
- I don't know what happens to me ... I feel so ... so tired. I ..."  
  
The policeman did not have the time to finish his sentence. He collapsed on the armchair and dropped his cup, that crashed on the floor. Hannibal smiled. No complications so far. But that was the easy part. He put his cup on the coffee table and went behind the armchair. From the inside pocket of his jacket he took a thin iron wire and winded it around Ramala' s neck. He squeezed it. When he was sure the policeman would no more be a problem, he released the pressure.  
  
Ramala was about his height, but really fatter ... and heavier. Hannibal grabbed the dead body and hoisted it on his shoulder. He headed to the bookshelf on his right and manipulated the modern edition of Dante' s Divine Comedy. A whole section of the huge piece of furniture started to swivel. As soon as there was enough space for him to pass with his load, he entered the secret room and closed the passage behind him. He laid down the corpse on a large table. "My dear friend, he you were not so dead, I would suggest you a diet."  
  
Hannibal changed into the policeman' s uniform. He used some linen he had prepared to look fatter. He looked at the result in the mirror. He put the cap forward in order to hide his face: that would do. He checked the car keys were in his pocket and went out the same way he had come in.  
  
On his way to the patrol car he passed two of his employees who did not seem to recognize him. He stepped into the car and left the reserve. The guard at the entrance was an ex cop. He saluted the man he thought was his previous boss. Hannibal waved back and smiled. That would be an excellent witness.  
  
He drove about twenty miles and hid the car. Then he changed back to his own clothes and took the direction of the bus stop he had previously spotted. He left the bus on the western limit of the reserve. He knew a hole in the fence that would enable him to enter unnoticed. It was probably the same passage the poachers were using to penetrate into the reserve. He would have to do something about it, but for the moment, he found it very convenient.  
  
An hour later, Hannibal was back in his house. He went upstairs to take a shower and change.  
  
Back in his study, he sat at his table, as quiet as a cat. His plan had gone smooth. He had no reason to worry. He saw that Catala had come back from town because the newspapers the young man daily bought for him were on his desk. The Washington Post was easy to find, but he had had to make a special order to receive the National Tattler as well. He had a lazy look at the Tattler headlines and decided for the Post first. As every day in the last two years or so, he jumped directly to the ad section. As every day in the last two years there was nothing for him in it.  
  
He put the paper back on the table and closed his eyes. In the first weeks he had desperately hoped Clarice would call for him. Then he had anxiously feared she would ask him to stop writing to her. None of this happened. With time, he had concluded she was fine, reconstructing her own life as he had urged her to do. And as no counter order had come, he had gone on writing to her.  
  
The letter Catala had posted that morning was containing an extra gift. After all, it was Christmas ... He had bought the little golden necklace in Florence, so long ago. The cameo he had attached to it was all he had left from his own mother. The fine figures of his mother appeared to him. She was so delicate, and yet so strong. Clarice looked so strong, and yet she was so fragile inside. For a second he wondered what Mischa would have been like if she had had a chance to grow up.  
  
Hannibal suddenly opened his eyes and shook his head. He knew he was drowning again in his memories and he could not afford it right now. He had Mr. Ramala to attend to. He got up and went to the library.  
  


* * *

  
Catala had arrived at 8:00 pm sharp. Hannibal had a shock when he opened the door: the young man was wearing a black tuxedo which, even if it was not exactly as elegant as Lecter' s one, would have opened the gates of the Kambuyu good society to the kenyan without any problem. Till now, Hannibal had only seen him in his bush clothes and had not realized how classy his companion could be.  
  
" - Catala ! You're so elegant !  
- Thank you, Dottore. I thought this was more suitable.  
- Yeah ... it sure is. Please, come in. you are just in time. I appreciate that."  
  
Catala gave him a broad smile as an answer, and the contrast of his white teeth with his dark brown skin made him look very attractive. Although he had never seen him with a woman, Hannibal suspected Catala had broken the heart of many of them.  
  
" - Dinner will be ready soon. Would you like a drink before ?  
- I don't drink alcohol, dottore ... It's bad for the concentration.  
- Of course. But I do hope you will taste the wine tonight. The Château d'Yquem is remarkable. If you have to try only one in your life, it must be this one. Besides, you're not on duty tonight.  
- I will try, then.  
- I have some orange juice, here. Or maybe a soda ?  
- Juice will be fine. Thank you, dottore."  
  
Hannibal helped a glass of home-made juice for his guest and a cup of champaign for himself.  
  
" - Merry Christmas, Catala.  
- Merry Christmas, dottore."  
  
They drank in silence. The young man seemed perfectly calm and comfortable. Hannibal liked that, even if he understood there would not be much talking that night - it was simply not in the man' s nature. So, he was surprised when Catala was the one to break the silence.  
  
" - I did not see the maids or any employee when I arrived, dottore.  
- That's right. I gave everybody leave for tonight. Even to the cook ... so, I'm afraid you will have to rely on me for the food. I hope you don't mind.  
- Not at all, dottore." He gave him his bright smile again. Hannibal laughed.  
" - Good !". Then after a while: "I want you to know I really appreciate you accepted my invitation, Catala. I was not feeling like spending this evening alone. I hope I did not interfere with any plans you had. People generally like to spend Christmas with their family.  
- I don't have a family, dottore.  
- Sorry for that. I hope I did not break the heart of a young woman you had foreseen to take to dinner ..."  
  
Catala burst out laughing. It was the first time Hannibal ever saw him laugh. "No, dottore. She is having Christmas with her own family. They never really appreciated me, you know. So I was rather relieved to have a good reason not to go."  
  
Hannibal smiled.  
  
" - Happy to have been of assistance." he said. "So, you have a girlfriend, haven't you ? What's her name, if I may ask ?  
- You may, dottore. Mahany is her name.  
- Beautiful name.  
- Yes. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." Hannibal was pleasantly surprised that Catala was so willing to speak tonight. He truly liked the man. After all, this evening could be charming. Catala went on: "She is much more intelligent then me. She is going to the university, you know. She wants to be a doctor.  
- Really ! Where does she study ?  
- In Nairobi. She will finish next year. We will get married as soon as she comes back.  
- Congratulations. So, she will practice here ?  
- Yes. She will replace old doctor Merengy after he retires.  
- So ... I can hope to keep you with me after your wedding ?"  
  
Catala looked puzzled.  
  
" - Of course, dottore !  
- Good. Now, if you excuse me, I must leave you for a few minutes to attend to our dinner. Why don't you choose some music for us ?"  
  
Hannibal got up and indicated the stereo. Catala nodded.  
  
Hannibal went to the kitchen. It had been a while since he had cooked brain and he did want to honor Mr. Ramala' s one as it should. He checked the sauce pan: everything looked fine. Then he opened the oven and took out the vole-au-vent. They were glazed to perfection. He removed their little hat and started filling them with the sauce. It smelled good. As he was about to complete the task, he heard the first chords of the Goldberg Variations by Bach coming from the dinning room. "Umh, the boy had a good taste ..." he thought.  
  
Before leaving the kitchen, he put back the roast meat in the oven and checked the vegetables. Timing was perfect. When he came back to the dinning room with the first course and the wine, Catala was standing by the window, apparently lost in his thoughts.  
  
" - Excellent choice." Hannibal said after having put the dish and bottle on the table. Catala looked at him, confused. "The music, I mean.  
- Oh ... Yes, I love Bach.  
- I did not expect you would be a connoisseur of classical music.  
- I love the piano. I actually started learning to play when I was a kid. But then I had to stop.  
- Really ? What happened ?"  
  
Catala turned back to the window without answering. For a moment, Hannibal feared the young man would shut himself away again. "I'm sorry, Catala. I have a tendency to be too curious sometimes. Please, forgive me ... Should we start ? I'm afraid the vole-au-vent would get cold otherwise."  
  
Catala went to sit a the table and gave a shy smile to his host. Hannibal poured some wine in their glasses and sat down too. "Bon appetit." he said. "Bon appetit a vous, dottore" Catala replied. His french accent was almost perfect. Hannibal was more and more intrigued.  
  
They started eating their meal.  
  
" - It is really delicious, dottore.  
- Thank you, Catala." The young man took a sip of wine.  
" - And the wine surely measures up."  
  
Hannibal nodded. They remained silent for another ten minutes, savoring the food and the drink. Hannibal was the one to break the silence this time.  
  
" - You know I have a piano here.  
- I know, dottore. I've heard you play sometimes. You are very talented.  
- Thank you. I thought ... if you want to practice from time to time, you can use it. And ... if you feel like it, I would be glad to offer my services."  
  
Catala stared at him in disbelief. But the touch of envy in the man' s eyes did not escape Hannibal.  
  
" - That is very generous of you, dottore. But I'm afraid I have forgotten almost everything now. I haven't played since at least fifteen years. I don't imagine I could be a suitable student.  
- Well, we all have to start at the beginning, don't we ? Really, that would not bother me at all.  
- I ... " he chuckled. "I would love it, dottore.  
- Then it's all setup. Let's drink to that."  
  
Hannibal raised his glass and they both had a mouthful of wine. Hannibal stood up and took their plates to the kitchen. When he came back with the second course, Catala had finished his glass and looked much more relaxed. They went on with the dinner and a light conversation about women and Catala' s fiancee, which soon appeared to be his favorite subject. Hannibal was mainly listening to his companion, who seemed inexhaustible as far as singing the praises of young Mahany was concerned. At the end of the meal, Hannibal stood up and went back to the table with a little cigar box.  
  
" - Do you mind my smoking ?" he asked.  
" - No, dottore.  
- Would you like one ?"  
  
The young man hesitated for a second and took one of the brown cigar the doctor was offering. Hannibal observed him as he cut the end of it. No doubt about it, Catala had had an education far beyond the classical kenyan village one. Hannibal lit his cigar and exhaled the smoke slowly.  
  
"What about you, dottore ? There is a woman too, isn't there ?" The question startled Hannibal. He stared intensely at his guest whose face slightly reddened. But Catala did not break the look. Hannibal had no idea why, but he felt comfortable with the young man. There was something special about him, something that made him willing to talk.  
  
" - There is.  
- But she is not here, is she ?  
- No, Catala. She is not. She is far away.  
- The letters ..." he paused, as if unsure he could go on with impunity, but then he made his mind. "The letters you ask me to post, they are for her, aren't they ?"  
  
Hannibal smiled.  
  
" - I'm sorry, dottore. I shouldn't have asked.  
- It's all right, Catala. Don't worry ... Yes, the letters are for her ... Her name is Clarice.  
- And you love her.  
- I do. More than anything else in the world ... More than my own life.  
...  
- Doesn't she love you back ?  
- ... I don't know, Catala. I don't know. And I'm not sure she knows herself.  
- Is this why you are sad tonight ?  
- Maybe."  
  
There were a few minutes of uneasy silence. Dottore Speranza seemed completely elsewhere, lost in his own world. Catala was afraid he had gone too far. He had loved working for the dottore this past year. Speranza was always courteous with his employees and he never beaten them. That was another story in the farm where Catala had worked previously. Additionally, the man seemed to trust him. And that feeling was new for Catala. And now this dinner ...  
  
Hannibal finally came back to reality. The concern on his companion' s face made him smile. "Sorry, Catala. I'm afraid I lost contact for a while. Would you like a coffee ?". Catala nodded. Hannibal went to the kitchen to prepare the coffee. As he was manipulating the percolator, his thoughts came back to what had just happened. He could not believe he had talked about Clarice to a man he hardly knew. But yet, he was not worried. For some reasons, he knew Catala would keep it for him. What was it with this man that was so familiar to the good doctor ? He had to find out.  
  
He came back with a tray. "Let's have the coffee in the sitting room, we'll be more comfortable." Catala followed him and they settled in two big brown leather armchairs. Hannibal handed the young man a cup of strong italian coffee.  
  
" - Catala, do you mind if I ask you a personal question ? You're not obliged to answer, of course. If you think I am indiscreet, just tell me.  
- Go ahead, dottore.  
- Well, I must confess you intrigued me tonight, my friend. The tuxedo, first, then the piano, your french, which sounds almost perfect, and your manners ... All that indicate a high level education ...".  
  
Catala took a few seconds before answering.  
  
" - Something you would not expect from a body guard, would you ?" There was a small trace of agressivity in his voice. Hannibal smiled.  
" - You're much more than a body guard to me, Catala. And I think you know it.  
...  
- I was not born in Kambuyu. I am from the north of the country. My family was an important one there. My father wanted the best education for his children, and he had the means to get it. He appointed an english tutor for me. And a french music professor ... He took us to Italy once. And though I was only four years old, he had me visit all the museums of Roma." He smiled at the memory, but his smile rapidly faded.  
  
...  
  
" - What happened ?" Hannibal asked for the second time in the evening. The young man sighed.  
" - My family belonged to the Habaru ethnic group. We were a minority in the north ... One morning, a gang of the Semifu group entered our estate ... They started massacring all the servants first, even the ones from their own ethnic group. They considered them as traitors because they were serving the enemy ... us ... They locked us in the cellar, but we could still hear the screaming ... Me, my parents and my little sister, Marina."  
  
Hannibal Lecter' s heart skipped a few beats when he heard Catala mention his sister.  
  
" - How old was she ?" he couldn't help asking. His face was as pale as chalk.  
" - Marina was two years old. My parents had given her an italian name, because they thought it had more class. I was named after my grandfather. He was a warrior. I was only six years old, but I understood perfectly what was happening."  
  
Catala' s eyes were shining. He was looking in the void while the memories were coming up to his conscience. He took a deep breath and went on:  
  
"When they had finished with the servants, their chief came to us with a few of his men ... They took my mother first ... He cut her throat ... in front of us ... It was the first time I ever saw my father crying ... They started beating him ... three of them ... He was crying, but I know it was not for the physical pain ... My mother was everything to him."  
  
Hannibal shivered as his own memories were surfacing. He shook his head strongly: he could not let them out, not now.  
  
"Then they took me and my sister upstairs ... I knew they would not spare us ... They just wanted to play with us before killing us ... She was only two years old ... She could not understand ... She was looking at me as if I could explain, but how could I ... They raped me first ... Their chief, and then his cousin ... They though I was worn out after that, so their attention slackened for a brief moment. I profited by it: I took Marina in my arms and I started running ... I ran as fast as I could, but she was heavy, so heavy for me ... So, I put her on my back and told her to hold on my neck ... She was very brave ... She was scared to death but she did not she a tear, and shed did what I told her ... I ran ... As fast as my legs could run."  
  
Hannibal did not need the young man to continue to know the end of the story. Neither did he want to hear it. But he could not interrupt him either.  
  
"I heard the shot of the riffle ... And I felt the little arms release the pressure on my neck ... I tried to grab her but I failed and she fell on the floor without a sound ... I knew she was dead, but I had to look ... She was lying on the floor, her eyes closed ... She was smiling ... The others were getting closer, I could hear them ... So, I ran away ... And I left her."  
  
Hannibal slowly got closer to the young man. Catala was sitting straight in the armchair. He was looking in front of him at nothing in particular and seemed to have forgotten the presence of his employer. His eyes were feverish. Hannibal moved behind him and put his hands on Catala' s shoulder. The contact made the younger man chill. He bent his head and tears started rolling freely on his cheeks.  
  
Hannibal started massaging the shoulders but did not say a word. He was unable to speak. The doors of his memory palace were cracking as the memories of his own childhood were trying to come out and invade his mind. He did not want to let them out, but he had to use all his mental energy to keep the doors closed. Even for a man like Hannibal Lecter, control has its limits. He heard the screaming of Mischa and closed his eyes. Though his body was seemingly calm, the inside of his skull was a real battle field. Both men remained like that for a few minutes, which appeared an eternity for each of them.  
  
The sobbing of his companion brought Hannibal back to the reality.  
  
" - It's gonna be all right, Catala. I understand ...  
- How could you ...  
- I understand." Hannibal took a deep breath. "Believe me, I do."  
  
Now Hannibal knew why he had felt so close to Catala. The young man progressively calmed down and they spent the rest of the evening listening to the music and talking about light topics, as light as possible, as far away from the tragedy as possible.  
  
It was half past two when Catala finally left and Hannibal went to bed.  
  


* * *

  
_It was dark. So dark. He could hear her voice but could not tell where it was coming from. Hannibal was running in the corridors, violently opening all the doors he saw, but she was not there. "Hannibal, help me." Clarice' s voice was ringing in his mind. He shouted in the dark: "Clarice, where are you ? Tell me where you are !"  
  
But Clarice did not seem to hear him. "You said you would help me. You said you would always be there for me. But you lied to me."  
  
The voice sounded desperate. But no matter how long and how fast Hannibal was running, it never seemed to be closer. "Help me !"  
_  
Hannibal woke up screaming. He sat straight in his bed. It took a while before his breathing came back to normal. He looked around him. The sheets were torn out on his bed. Sweat was covering his face and his chest. He shivered. A nightmare ... It was just another nightmare ...  
  
It had been months he had not had one. The emotions of the evening had provoked this one. He shook his head.  
  
  
He missed her. He missed her so much. But he had made a promise and he would not break it.  
  
  


* * *

_To be continued. Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome ..._  
_Absolut._  
  



	4. December 24th, 1993

****Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. I'll turn them back when I've finished. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.  
  
  
**Chapter 4: December 24th, 1993.**  
  
"Clarice ! Could you bring back the bread from the kitchen ?" Ardelia' s voice brought Clarice back to reality. She sighed. "OK" she shouted back.  
  
Clarice and Mischa had been invited for Christmas eve by Ardelia and her husband Ted, together with other friends of the newly married couple. Clarice liked Ted very much. She was happy for her friend. But since she had met him, Ardelia had redoubled her efforts to find a husband for her. And that was really becoming irritating.  
  
This evening was the turn of one of Ted' s colleague, Frank. Clarice had to admit Frank was rather attractive. He had green eyes that would have melt any woman she knew. But Clarice was simply not in search of a man. There was no space for a man in her life. She had rebuilt a life for her and for her daughter. She was fine like that and did not want anything else. The only difficult point was to make Ardelia understand that !  
  
She would have bet there would be someone for her tonight. She even thought of refusing the invitation. But Mischa adored her aunt Ardelia and Clarice had decided it would not have been fair to spoil the little girl' s Christmas. She could handle.  
  
Clarice went back to the dinning room to join the other guests. Mischa ran to her: "Mummy !". She took her daughter in her arms and tickled her. The child burst out laughing and Clarice felt a rain of pearls felt upon her. How she loved her ! How could one want anything more from life when one had such an angel ?  
  
She came back to the table and sat the child next to her. It was almost midnight and the dinner was coming to the end. "How come you don't sleep yet ?" Clarice mischievously asked to her child. "No mummy. Me not sleep." Clarice smiled. "All right. You not sleep."  
  
" - She's very excited." Frank said, giving her a gracious smile. "Is she waiting for Santa ?  
- No. Santa will come only tomorrow morning. She knows it.  
- Then she's trying to make you give in ...  
- I'm afraid she is. Do you have children, Frank ?  
- I have a son. He's five years old. He's living with his mother now.  
- I'm sorry.  
- Me too. But I guess that's life."  
  


* * *

  
After dinner, they had coffee in the sitting room. Mischa had finally dropped off and Clarice hat tucked her in Ardelia' s bed. The guests were forming little groups and the conversations were lively. Clarice was sitting on the couch. Frank came to sat beside her.  
  
" - So, she's sleeping ?" he asked.  
" - Yeah. At last. She collapsed all of a sudden.  
- Yes. Children are like that.  
...  
- Frank ...  
- Yes ?  
- I can imagine what Ardelia told you ... "  
  
A broad smile lighted up his face. He winked at her.  
  
" - Yeah." he answered. "Ardelia should have made a career in the sales instead of the FBI." Clarice chuckled.  
" - Frank, don't see anything personal in it, but I'm not looking for a story right now.  
- I know. Ted told me."  
  
Clarice looked at him, puzzled.  
  
" - Then, why did you accept to come ?  
- I don't know ... Curiosity maybe ? Or the perspective of a quiet evening with friends without any 'chasing' ..."  
  
Clarice laughed nervously.  
  
" - I'm really sorry, Frank. I feel embarrassed. I don't know what Ardelia has in her mind.  
- It's all right. I think Ardelia is only worried about you. She wants you to be happy. People in love often react this way, you know. Because they're in love, they think everybody else should be.  
- I guess you're right.  
- Perhaps we could just be ... friends, and enjoy the rest of this evening without ulterior motives. What do you think ?  
- That's an idea."  
  


* * *

  
The guests had long gone now. Clarice was giving a hand to Ardelia for cleaning up. When the room looked again like a sitting room, Clarice dropped on the couch. Ardelia brought her a beer and sat next to her.  
  
" - Ouf !" she said. "I think we have finished.  
- Yeah. I'll get my daughter and let you sleep.  
- Drink your beer. There's no hurry. Ted is bringing Michael home. He won't be home before half an hour.  
- This was a great evening, Ardelia. Thank you.  
- My pleasure. I think Mischa liked it.  
- No doubt about it. I actually think this was her first social party."  
  
Ardelia chuckled. They both remained silent for a while, sipping their beer. Then Ardelia asked:  
  
" - So, what did you think of Frank ?" Clarice laughed.  
" - You never give up, do you ?  
- Nope !  
- Well, Frank is very nice. And handsome too. But I really don't feel like going for something serious with a man. You know it.  
- You didn't tell him that, did you ?  
- Of course I did, Ardelia !  
- You're incorrigible !  
- No. I'm just happy the way I am."  
  
Ardelia sighed. After a moment she started to talk again, but her voice had turned serious.  
  
" - Clarice ... I know I swore I would never talk about it any more, but ...  
- What is it ?  
...  
- You still think about him, don't you ? Lecter, I mean."  
  
Clarice bent her head. It was no use lying, not to Ardelia.  
  
" - Yes. Every day ... Ardelia, how is it possible ? We had only one night. How can it be possible that I don't see any other man ? Or rather, how is it possible that every time a man comes closer, I can't help comparing him to Hannibal Lecter ?  
- I don't know. Love ?  
- I'm serious, Ardelia.  
- I'm serious too. Clarice ... You know I never approved of it and I don't understand what ... But maybe we should accept the fact that you're in love with him.  
- Girl, You're not really helping me, you know that."  
  
Ardelia did not answer immediately. She took Clarice' s hand in hers.  
  
" - Did you have any ... contact with him since ?  
- He writes to me.  
- He what ?  
- He writes to me. Twenty two letters in three years. Plus three Christmas cards." Clarice showed her necklace to her friend. "This arrived last Christmas."  
  
Ardelia' s eyes widened in disbelief.  
  
" - And ... do you answer to him ?  
- No.  
- Do you know where he is ?  
- No. He never gives that much details.  
- But you know how to contact him, do you ?  
...  
- Yes.  
- Why ?  
- We have no future together, Ardelia. I work for the FBI and he is a wanted criminal. What good would it do if I'd answer him ?  
- I don't know ... You might be happy ...  
- I **am** happy, Ardelia. OK, I'm gonna get my little treasure now. It's late."  
  
Clarice stood up and headed to the stairs, but before she started climbing to the bedroom, she turned back to her friend, still sitting on the couch.  
  
" - Ardelia, you won't tell anybody, will you ?  
- You know you can count on me.  
- Yes. If I'm sure of something in my life, it is that I can count on you."  
  
Ardelia winked at her. Clarice turned her back and climbed the stairs, trying to hide the tears that were starting rolling from her eyes.  
  
  


* * *

_To be continued. Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome ..._  
_Absolut._  
  



	5. September 21st, 1994

****Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. I'll turn them back when I've finished. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.  
  
  
** Chapter 5: September 21st, 1994.**  
  
Clarice went out of the Washington Post building as breathless as if she had run three miles. She leaned against the building wall and closed her eyes. She had done it. She repeated this little sentence again and again in her head. Just to be able to believe it. She had dreamt so often of doing it that she was not sure now that she had done it for real.  
  
One message. One edition only. The die was cast. Now fate would decide of her life. Fate and Hannibal Lecter. Though the sun was shining, Clarice shivered.  
  
These last months had been the most difficult of her life. For everybody else, Clarice Starling was doing fine. She had had a promotion at work. Her daughter was growing up fine and she was wonderful. But inside, she was a mess. The dreams had come back. Not nightmares: the lambs had stopped screaming long ago. But dreams of him, dreams of her with him. At first they had been not so frequent. But after a while they came more often. And now, they were visiting her almost every night. And they inevitably left her crying in the morning.  
  
Hannibal ... His name echoed in her head. "You were right, Hannibal." she thought once again. "I was strong enough to rebuild my life alone. But what is the point if I can't leave it with the only man I ever loved ? Why all this hard work was for ? To prove myself she could make it ? To make the journey without love had no sense."  
  
She rubbed her nose with her sleeve. Today was Mischa' s third birthday. She had a thousand things to do. And all she could do for now was waiting. The chances he would see the ad were poor, she knew it. But she had decided to play her life on it.  
  


* * *

  
Hannibal raised his cup of tea to his mouth. He closed his eyes. He was just recovering from a serious flu and still had a persistent headache.  
  
He had a look at his desk. Catala had left the newspapers on the tray with his breakfast. He smiled. He could always count on Catala. He took the Washington Post and opened it on the table, going directly to the ad section, as usual. He took another sip of tea.  
  
Suddenly, his deep blue eyes focussed on the top of the second column. He dropped his cup but did not even hear the sound of it crashing on the floor. There it was ...  
  
" _Land Runner,  
  
You have a daughter. We miss you.  
  
Lambs Keeper._ "  
  
  
Hannibal had to read the ad three times to be sure he was not dreaming. Then a thousand images invaded his mind in a perfect chaos. Seven words ... just seven words, and his life was ... He read again the message and finally realized fully what it meant. He had a daughter ... They had a daughter ... together !  
  
"We miss you". **We** miss you. It was not only for the child. **She** missed him too ... A burst of laugh exploded in his throat.  
  
  


* * *

_To be continued. Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome ..._  
_Absolut._  
  



	6. December 24th, 1994

****Disclaimer: The characters of Hannibal Lecter, Clarice Starling and Ardelia Mapp do not belong to me, but to Thomas Harris. I'll turn them back when I've finished. No copyright infringement intended, no profit made.  
  
Author' s note: Here we are. We come back to the orginal fanfic. Hope this is clarifying things now ...  
  
  
****** Chapter 6: December 24th, 1994.**  
  
The little girl did not want to go to bed. She was much too excited with Christmas and all the presents she had asked to Santa Claus. Clarice was holding her in her lap in the rocking chair, trying to put her to sleep. She stroke the little girl hair and started singing softly.  
  


_Silent night, holy night,  
All is calm, all is bright  
Round yon virgin mother and child.  
Holy infant so tender and mild,  
Sleep in heavenly peace.  
Sleep in heavenly peace._  


  
The little body was getting heavier and Clarice thought she had made it. But the child suddenly raised her face to her and looked at her right in the eyes. Clarice chilled. She would never get used to the intensity of the blue eyes.  
  
" - Mummy, are you sure Santa will come tonight ? How does he know where we live ?  
- He knows, honey. Santa knows where every child is living. And as you have been as good as gold whole year, I would not worry if I were you. He will come."  
  
Clarice put a little kiss on her daughter' s forehead.  
  
" - But, he can only come when you sleep.  
- Why, mum ?  
- You know that. I already told you. No child must see Santa, or he will leave without leaving his presents.  
- What if I wake up in the middle of the night and he's here ?  
- Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight ?" The little girl nodded. "All right then. Now try to sleep."  
  
The child curled up in her mother's arms. Clarice started again to rock her and went on singing.  
  


_Silent night, holy night,  
Shepherds quake at the sight,  
Glories stream from heaven afar,  
Heavenly hosts sing alleluia;  
Christ the Savior, is born!  
Christ the Savior, is born!_  


  
" - Mummy ?" The child' s voice was not sleepy at all. Clarice sighed.  
" - What, my love ?  
- Why didn't little Jesus have a dad ?  
...  
- He had a father, honey. Every child's got one." Clarice pulled the child closer. "His father just couldn't live with him and his mother.  
- Just like me, then ?  
- Yes. Just like you."  
  
"Not exactly for the same reasons, though." Clarice thought. The girl had started asking questions about her father recently. Since she was going to school actually. And Clarice was having a hard time answering them. She did not want to tell her who her father was before she was old enough to understand. But would she ever be able to understand.  
  
" - Why is my daddy not living with us, mum ?  
- I told you, honey. Your daddy is traveling, for work. He is in another country. He loves you very much, but cannot be with us now.  
- Will he be here next year for Christmas ?  
- I don't think so, honey. But who knows ..."  
  
Clarice closed her eyes to prevent the tears to roll out. She buried her face into her daughter's curled black hair.  
  


_Silent night, holy night,  
Son of God, love's pure light  
Radiant beams from thy holy face,  
_

  
"I think I should sleep now, mum." She yawned. "Or Santa will not come." Clarice kissed her in the neck. Clarice was almost sad. Though she had been trying to put her child to sleep for more than one hour now, she knew what was waiting for her after she would have tucked her in bed: just another lonely Christmas night ...  
  


_With the dawn of redeeming grace,  
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.  
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth._  


  
The child was slightly snoring. Clarice smiled. "Sleep, my love. And have the nicest dreams". She lifted the little sleeping body in her arms and carefully stood up. She was about to leave the sitting room when she heard someone knocking at the door. The child moved in her arms. "Shit !" Clarice swore. She cautiously shifted her daughter on her right arm and went to the door.  
  
When she opened it, a breath of cold air hit her in the face. The child shivered and turned her face to the door.  
  
"Santa !" she shouted, both fascinated and terrified. "Mum, it's Santa !"  
  
Clarice was petrified. The man was standing on her porch, all dressed in red. The sack on his back was full of parcels. A long white beard was almost completely covering his face, but Clarice would recognize these eyes out of a thousand. She couldn't speak a word.  
  
"Mummy ! I've seen him. I will not have presents now." The child had buried her face in her mother' s neck and was crying abundantly. Clarice instinctively hold her closer.  
  
"Don't cry, little girl." the man said with a soft and low voice. "It's all right. You will have your presents ... all your presents." He put his hand on the child's back and stroke it gently. "You can look at me." The child turned her face to him and rubbed her nose with her sleeve.  
  
" - But mummy told me ...  
- And your mum is right. But every year, I choose one child in the whole world who will have the permission to see me. And this year, you won."  
  
A broad smile lightened her face.  
  
"Mummy ! I won !" Clarice was still unable of speaking. "Mum ! We must let Santa in, or he will catch a cold." The child moved in her mothers arms. Clarice let her down and stepped back.  
  
Hannibal came in and closed the door behind him. He kneeled in front of the little girl.  
  
" - So, tell me, what is your name ?  
- Her name is Mischa." Clarice answered. Her voice was hoarse. Hannibal tilted his head and stared at Clarice. She saw his eyes were moist.  
" - Mischa ... That's a beautiful name.  
- My mom gave it to me." the child said proudly. "You know, at school, I'm the only Mischa.  
- Are you ? A lovely name, for a lovely little girl ... So, Mischa, have you been a good girl this year ?  
- Yes, Santa. Haven't I mum ?"  
  
Clarice nodded.  
  
" - Yes, honey. You've been a very good girl. Always." Mischa smiled.  
" - You see. Did you receive my letter, Santa ?  
- Of course I did. And I may have a few things for you in my sack."  
  
Mischa' s deep blue eyes sparkled mischievously.  
  
" - You've got beautiful eyes, Mischa." Hannibal whispered.  
" - She's got the eyes of her father." Clarice said, her voice back to normal.  
" - Can I have my presents now ?  
- I'm afraid this is not possible, Mischa. You have to go to sleep before. Besides, I may have a special surprise for you tomorrow morning. But I have to talk with your mother first.  
- OK." Mischa answered, a little bit disappointed. "I'm sleeping in mum's bed tonight.  
- I don't think so, honey.  
- But mum, you said I could ...  
- I know. But now that you have seen Santa, I guess you are a big girl and you should sleep in your bed.  
- OK. Good night, mummy.  
- Good night, my love. Have sweet dreams.  
- Oh, I will !"  
  
Clarice kissed her daughter. Mischa looked at Hannibal, still kneeling next to her. He opened his arms.  
  
"Do you think I could get one of these big hugs too ?" he asked. The little girl jumped in his arms laughing and put her little arms around his neck. He held her close and put his face in her hair, closing his eyes to better breath her scent. Clarice let the tears slowly go down.  
  
Mischa and her father finally parted and the child ran upstairs to her room. Hannibal stood up. When he was sure Mischa was in her room, he took away his cap and his beard.  
  
" - Good evening, Clarice.  
- Hannibal ..."  
  
She ran to him and put her arms around his waist. He hold her tight and planted a little kiss on her hair. "I'm here, Clarice. Everything's gonna be OK now." Clarice raised her face to him. "Are you going to ... stay ?". He caressed her cheek and swept her tears with his thumb. "No more going, Clarice. And no more tears."  
  
He lifted her in his arms and climbed the stairs to her bedroom.  
  


* * *

  
Mischa woke up very early the following morning. Anxious to discover her Christmas presents, she ran to her mother' s bedroom. She pushed the door opened and froze. This was the first time she ever saw a man in her mother' s bed. Clarice opened her eyes. Hannibal was sitting next to her, watching her.  
  
Clarice sat in her bed and stared at her daughter. "Come, Mischa. Don't be afraid. Everything is fine." The child stepped forward cautiously, her eyes still locked on the man in the bed. When she was close enough, Clarice took her hands in hers. Hannibal had not said a word.  
  
" - Mischa, this is your father." The little eyes widened.  
" - My daddy ? My **real** daddy ?  
- Yes, honey, your real daddy. And he's gonna stay with us now."  
  
Hannibal smiled at Clarice and at his daughter. "Yes, that's right." he said. "I'm going to stay with you and I'll never leave you again." As Mischa was still standing motionless by the bed, he raised his eyebrow and added: "That is ... If it's OK with you, of course ...".  
  
Mischa looked at her mother and screamed: "Mummy, this is the special surprise Santa said yesterday !". And then she jumped on the bed and in the arms of her both parents. She too had a family now ...  
  
  


**- The End -**  


  
  


* * *

_That's all, folks. Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome ..._  
_Absolut._  
  



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